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Clean, he grabbed a towel from the pool cabana and rubbed his hair dry. Winnie didn't mean to stare but he was so beautifully made, so tightly constructed of muscle and bone.
Morgan sat down next to her. "Had breakfast yet?"
"No, but I'm not very hungry."
"Well, lunch won't be long now. Here on island time the kitchen's always open and there's always something good to eat."
"Island time. I like that."
Leaning back she looked up into the azure sky. She could hear birds twittering and warbling. Sunshine glazed everything with perfect white-gold light. Life here was certainly far removed from the cares of New York. From the worries of the office and the billions of dollars Morgan managed at Grady Investments. Which reminded her of Morgan's conversation. "Everything all right at the office?"
He sat forward, muscles in his hard abdomen contracting. "There are a couple of problems, but nothing that won't get straightened out."
"Sounds like an administrative problem," she cautiously persisted. "Something happen with one of the assistants?' '
Morgan draped his towel around his neck, biceps bunching. "I might have to let someone go."
She mentally went through the administrative assistants that worked for Grady Investments. Most of them had been there for three years or more. "Who?"
"You don't need to worry-"
"But maybe I can help. Maybe when we get back I can put in some time, or help her on training. It could be that she's gotten rusty. I'll sit down with her first thing next Monday."
He ruffled his hair. "It's not quite that easy. She's my new assistant."
Winnie sat there stunned. For the longest moment she couldn't think of anything to say. She wasn't thinking period. Finally she roused herself and scooted to the edge of the longue, put her feet over the side as if she were bracing herself. "You fired me?"
"I didn't fire you."
"But you have a new assistant."
He didn't immediately speak. Then he exhaled slowly, a low rush of air. "Yes."
She felt a rush of emotion, a very painful rush of emotion. "I can't believe you replaced me."
"You were marrying me."
"But you can't replace me. I had a job. I liked my job. You can't replace me without discussing it with me."
Morgan stood up, took a few steps and snapped his towel. "We were getting married, Winnie. I thought you'd have enough to do at home-"
"What?" she demanded, jumping to her feet. "Ironing? Cooking? Grocery shopping?"
"No, I have Mr. Foley for all that," he answered impatiently.
"Exactly! If we'd gotten married, what would I do all day?"
Morgan groaned. "I don't want to do this. I want breakfast and coffee. I'm on vacation. Island time. No fights here, no rules, either."
"No!" Her eyes burned. A lump filled her throat. "You can't dismiss the conversation, or me, like this. You've taken my job from me, and I loved my job--"
"You couldn't have loved it that much. You were looking for a new job. You flew to Charleston just five weeks ago and interviewed with Osborne Manufacturing."
Winnie felt a heaviness settle in the pit of her stomach and she blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. "When did your new assistant start?"
"Winnie’
"Tell me!"
"Today."
"When were you going to tell me?”
'We were going to be on our honeymoon. I needed someone at the office. You can't be in two places at once."
She shook her head, hurt and furious. ''Well, then I take the job!"
"Bull." He crossed the flagstones, walking to her. "You didn't like the job. You liked being with me."
"Wrong."
He caught her by the waist, dragged her toward him.
"Not wrong. I know you," he said, voice deepening. "Maybe you did like your job, but you love me more. You want me more."
His mouth covered hers in a hard, relentless kiss, his hands burying deep in her loose hair. His tongue parted her lips and he drank the air from her lungs. Winnie's head swam, her senses reeling from the explosive contact.
He'd never kissed her like this before, never kissed her with anger or aggression, but she wasn't afraid as much as excited. His emotion matched her own and she answered his kiss, boldly pressing herself against him, and standing on tiptoe to cup the back of his head, her fingers coiling in his damp crisp hair.
She felt him harden against her, felt his arousal through his thin cotton shorts. He groaned deep in his throat as she rubbed her hips across him and with one hand he cupped her breast, kneading the nipple.
Winnie loved the feel of his hand on her breast and when he nudged her legs wider apart she wanted to be naked, wanted to feel him buried inside her.
"Come with me," he said, breaking away and leading her into the cool darkness of the poolside cabana.
He closed the door behind them, reached under Winnie's sundress and pulled off her panties and then hoisted her onto the slate counter.
The counter's coolness against her hot skin heightened her awareness.
He slid the spaghetti straps of her sundress off her shoulders and then pushed the thin green fabric down so that her dress wrapped around her waist.
"You're gorgeous," he said, bending his head to suck one nipple and then the other.
She was feeling so warm, very excited, yet he wouldn't touch her anywhere but on her breasts. Winnie battled to catch her breath as he alternately lashed and suckled each nipple with his tongue.
She squirmed on the counter, needing, wanting, and feeling completely empty. "Please."
He looked up at her, his jaw thick, his eyes dark with passion. "Please, what?"
"Touch me."
"But I am."
Heat burned in her cheeks. "No, you know."
He shook his head. "No, I don't know."
But he ruined his excellent acting by sliding his thumbs across her damp, sensitive nipples, creating fresh friction, more tension, more heat.
Winnie shuddered, rib cage expanding as she drew a deep unsteady breath. "Morgan-"
"Yes?"
His thumbs were drawing endless circles on the areolas. His thumbs went around and around, cir
cles that made her belly clench and her insides ache and her knees clamp together to appease the urgent need.
She felt hot. Hot inside her skin. Hot outside her skin.
She couldn't stand such bittersweet torment.
Morgan lifted her head forcing her to look deep into his eyes. "What do you want?" he persisted.
"You."
Without letting her go, he pulled her forward, parted her knees and entered her in one smooth, swift stroke. His thrusting was hard, intense, deliberate. He held her hips firmly and with each stroke buried himself more deeply. This was primitive and raw, fierce and possessive. Winnie knew she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.
